"Last night! you were not here; you were more than a hundred miles away."

"I heard it in a dream! Hush, hush!"

The song rose louder; impossible to describe its effect, in the midst of
the tranquil night, chiming over the serried rooftops, and under the
solitary moon. It was not like the artful song of man, for it was
defective in the methodical harmony of tune; it was not like the song of
the wild-bird, for it had no monotony in its sweetness: it was wandering
and various as the sounds from an AEolian harp. But it affected the
senses to a powerful degree, as in remote lands and in vast solitudes I
have since found the note of the mocking-bird, suddenly heard, affects the
listener half with delight, half with awe, as if some demon creature of
the desert were mimicking man for its own merriment. The chant now had
changed into an air of defying glee, of menacing exultation; it might have
been the triumphant war-song of some antique barbarian race. The note was
sinister; a shadow passed through me, and Lilian had closed her eyes, and
was sighing heavily; then with a rapid change, sweet as the coo with which
an Arab mother lulls her babe to sleep, the melody died away. "There,
there, look," murmured Lilian, moving from me, "the same I saw last night
in sleep; the same I saw in the space above, on the evening I first knew
you!"

Her eyes were fixed, her hand raised; my look followed hers, and rested on
the face and form of Margrave. The moon shone full upon him, so full as
if concentrating all its light upon his image. The place on which he
stood (a balcony to the upper story of a house about fifty yards distant)
was considerably above the level of the terrace from which we gazed on
him. His arms were folded on his breast, and he appeared to be looking